


Homeport (Belize Revisited)

by OnlyOneWoman



Series: Belize Shadow [10]
Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Control Issues, Derdrian, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Escape, Explicit Sexual Content, Fear, Feelings, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Love, M/M, Personal Growth, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Recovery, Rebuilding Relationship, Recovery, Vulnerability, Worry, kidnapping recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-02-07 02:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 9,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12831393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyOneWoman/pseuds/OnlyOneWoman
Summary: The next part of Belize Shadow series, a follow-up to "So Lost In Your Sea" and takes on directly after the last chapter in that part. Of course, canon is changed, but that's a given in any of my stories. The chapters will, as in "So Lost..." be devided between Adrian's and Deran's perspectives.It will probably be a bit tricky to follow this story unless you've already read at least the three last parts, "Shores In Flames", "Restless Waters" and "So Lost In Your Sea".Trigger warning: There will MAYBE be some canon-typical violence in this part, but I wont make a TW for each chapter where it might occur, because I don't want to spoil. I take it for granted that the Animal Kingdom fans reading this, can take the same kind of violence in a fic as in the show. More tags will be added as the story goes on.As always I want to thank all the lovely people reading, commenting, writing, sharing and just being so nice and encouraging in this fandom. You're amazing <3





	1. Adrian

The ocean’s bluer, it almost looks cartoonish. Like looking at a back drop that can be removed to the director’s liking, changing the scenery to suit the story. It’s a beautiful view stirring up equally beautiful and painful memories. A lie in bright summer’s colours even though it’s technically winter and Adrian thinks that’s just another back drop. Being a New York kid from the beginning, he’s never really gotten used to warm winters. He doesn’t miss the snow though, it’s just one of those fixed ideas from childhood you never really let go off.  
  
His weary eyes leaves the window view and skates over the floor, already messy with their bags, some scattered clothes and items. Two pair of shoes, skate model, in different sizes standing weirdly neat in the clutter, as if someone decided to just keep one kind of stuff in order and not giving a fuck about the rest.  
  
The man still sleeping is dead tired, sprawled out like he passed out from too much weed. He’s barely covered by the blanket and another time, Adrian would’ve crawled over him, nibbling the spine, kissing every fetlock, slowly waking him up. Or been too afraid to do it. It’s only the backdrop that’s the same. In every other way, Belize feels like a completely new place to him and he’s not sure if that’s good or bad. Are they just visiting, or on the run? Adrian guesses he’ll ever know for sure. For now, he’s simply staying with looking at, listening to the breaths from the knackered, blonde guy, sleeping naked and warm in the bed.  
  
Adrian lets the thin curtain fall back, shutting the bright morning sun out. He’s not sure why he agreed to do this. To be honest, he’ll afraid it will ruin the good memories from the first time and it looks an awful lot like escape. Being on the run is never good. Not from Smurf, Oceanside or any other problems. It’s not as if they’ll vanish just because they’re not within sight. Still, Adrian can’t help but feeling relieved. He knew they were tired, fucking exhausted, just not to what extent. The view of Deran laying still and heavy is a very clear reminder. Good idea or not, it was still necessairy. It was either this or a shitstorm with potentially deadly outcome and right now both of them just need to learn how to breathe again. It’s not an escape, it’s a respite.  
  
Deran’s phone’s on silent, but the screen is turning bright. Adrian doesn’t bother waking him up or even look at the phone. He knows who it is and Deran wont take the call anyway. There’s no reason making their first morning here unnecessarily shitty. Soon enough they’ll talk, it’s been going in that direction for a very long time now and maybe the gut feeling leading Deran to propose this, headless as it was, holds some truth.  
_  
You know, maybe we should go back to Belize…_ It seems like a lifetime ago when they were sitting by the beach in Oceanside, Adrian still angry and frustrated, Deran still shitscared, reckless and violent. It was Deran’s way of saying he wanted things to be good again, shitty as it was and Adrian didn’t take that bait. And now they’re back. It’s another rental place, another bed and another time. The view is the same, so is the water. The bright sun is just tricking his eyes, it’s all the same. The only things changed, are the two men in the silent room.  


	2. Deran

”Morning, babe…”  
”Morning.”  
”What time is it?”  
”Around eleven. Didn’t wanna wake you up.”  
  
Adrian’s smile is barely visible, but it’s there. Deran can hear it. He squints at the window where Adrian’s sitting on the sill, looking weary like he’s not slept enough but can’t lie still trying. He’s naked, the freckled skin looking too pale in the murky room, and he’s smoking a joint. Deran nods at him.  
  
”Isn’t it a little too early for that?”  
”Probably.”  
  
His boyfriend has tiny wrinkles and dark circles around his eyes and he looks at the joint like it’s some kind of irritating bug he’s not decided whether to squash or just brush off. It doesn’t seem like he’s been crying, Deran’s gotten pretty good at reading those signs by now. After all, they made a hasty decision and landed here really late. Since getting off the plane, they’ve pretty much just eaten, showered and crashed, in that order. They’re both fucking knackered and Deran smiles.  
  
”Listen. Can you hear it?”  
”What?”  
”No women…”  
  
Adrian just blows out smoke and shakes his head, laughing. He finishes the joint and stubs it out in the ugly ash tray balancing on his knees.   
  
”Idiot.”  
”Pussy.”  
”Shit head.”  
”Asshole.”  
  
The endearment beneath an insult. How long did they do that? Deran’s lost counting on all the shit they’ve called each other through the years, mock fighting, barely even aware of the concealing. Deran reaches his arm out and Adrian comes back to bed, pressing a firm kiss on his lips. Maybe it’s the joint, the relief or just the weariness talking, but it’s loud and very difficult to ignore. They’ve not really been in the mood for sex the last few days, too busy planning without revealing too much, but their bodies seem to have a different opinion now.  
  
Adrian looks fucking gorgeous. Tired, but calm and the worries temporarily forgotten, tucked away somewhere safe and his smile turns impish.   
  
”Wanna take a morning ride, babe?”


	3. Adrian

One day he’ll have to write a book on how to be gentle without scaring skittish men off. How to show care without turning the initial frown into a frozen posture and rejection, because he’s become pretty good at it.  
  
Deran’s squirming, clenching around his fingers, riding his hand to loosen up. He’s warm and tight, the heat like a slick vice, opening gradually for Adrian to add more fingers. It’s a turn-on if ever there was one, seeing this previously crazy scared man sinking up and down, eyes half-closed and head lolling back, to the side, pinned onto three fingers, like he’s giving up his strenght to let Adrian balance him. Deran’s cock is flapping between their bellies, momentarily ignored and Adrian has to grab his own to keep himself calm, the little sounds from Deran already threatening to make this too quick.  
  
His lover keeps his eyes closed, not to shut Adrian out, but to keep himself in the now and it’s an intense sight. They wont last very long, either of them, and Adrian starts meeting the lowerings with thrusts. Deran cries out, loud and primal, shoving his hand aside.  
  
”Lube… Where’s the lube?”  
  
Adrian finds the bottle next to his foot and Deran grabs it, pouring a good amount of the content in his palm and slicks them both. Instead of sinking back down, he switches to all four.  
  
”C’mon, babe…”  
  
Adrian hesitates a second. They’ve not done it this way, not with Deran bottoming, and it’s felt important for him to see his face.  
  
”You’re sure?”  
”No, I’m joking. Fuck yeah, I’m sure! Jesus, Adrian… Stop analyzing shit and just fuck me!”  
  
He’s spreading his legs wider and Adrian bites his lip because fucking hell, that’s a sight he likes. He grabs Deran’s hip with his left hand, letting his cock slide up and down the puckered skin until Deran hisses at him and Adrian laughs a little at the impatience before he carefully presses the leaking head against the hole.  
  
It’s easier than he expected. Deran’s loose and wet, relaxed and Adrian keeps his buttocks spread with his palms, just to get a good view at the penetration. There’s little to no resistance and Adrian has to bite down hard as he slides all the way in, easy as nothing. Deran grunts.  
  
”You’re fucking slow!”  
”Just wanted to see you taking it all in…”  
  
A part of him wants to grip harder, hold tighter and just take his boyfriend hard and rough like Adrian likes it himself, but that’s not possible. For now, that idea is for the spank bank only. He starts moving slow and careful, maybe he’s unnecessarily cautious and Deran’s cursing, accusing him of teasing. Adrian moves to grip one hand on Deran’s shoulder and leans to take his balls in the other, fondling them as he speeds up a little.  
  
Deran’s soon lost beneath him, meeting his thrusts to a point where he’s fucking himself on Adrian’s cock, mindless and desperate to come, the loose teasing of his balls soon accompanied by his own pumping fist and the throaty gasp turns into shameless moans of a sort Adrian’s never heard from his skittish lover. They’re but animals now, both of them, momentarily sharing one mind and release the only goal. Pleasure chasing, wornout fuckers miles away on another reckless trip south, Oceanside’s tears vanished as Adrian locks Deran’s chest impossibly tight to himself, sinking his teeth in the damp skin while Deran all but growls, cock pulsating over Adrian’s fist.


	4. Deran

”Babe?”  
”Uh-huh?”  
”Are we on the run?”  
  
Adrian scratches his scruffy hair and shrugs.   
  
”Don’t know. Probably.”  
  
There it is, the slightly defiant smile, warm and friendly, but definately teasing. Adrian strokes his thumb under Deran’s eye.  
  
”We’re idiots, Deran, but I don’t regret coming here. Not then, not now.”  
  
They need to talk. Especially Deran. Perhaps the illusion of safety here is nothing but just that: an illusion, but it’s the one they need right now. They’re not only on the run, they’re chasing after something as well and Deran’s not sure what that is. What could they possibly find here except a temporary refuge from reality? It’s probably pointless, but for the moment it makes it easier to breathe and without air it’s hard to do anything at all, no matter where you are.  
  
Adrian lets his hand wander over Deran’s hipbone. Slow, almost dreamy.   
  
”It feels strange, I admit that. The last time here… Actually I was a bit afraid I’d back out now.”  
”But you didn’t.”  
”Neither did you.”  
  
His boyfriend sighs, searching for his hand to twine them together, closing his eyes. He takes deep breaths.  
  
”You know… the last time I was so fucking scared.”  
”For what?”  
”I already knew who I was. Just didn’t realise I was madly in love with my best friend. When it happened… I thought I’d ruined everything. I’ve wondered…”  
”What?”  
”That first time, what did you actually feel? I mean, not the sex, but all of it.”  
  
Deran shakes his head.  
  
”That’s a good fucking question I’m not sure I can answer, man.”  
”Try.”  
”Well… Honestly, I freaked out. In silence.”  
”That’s not really your style.”  
”Yeah, it is. I mean, Jesus… I thought it was normal, I mean normal like something everyone feels for a good friend, you know.  Never even connected what I felt with...”  
”Being in love?”  
”Something like that.”  
”Then what did you think it was?”  
”I don’t know. All I knew for sure is that I always got so fucking happy to see you and hated it when your parents didn’t let us meet on Sundays because they were family days. Never felt like that with other friends, or chicks. I mean, after I’d tried to forget about the sex.”  
  
Deran smiles, it doesn’t reach his eyes and he knows Adrian can see it.  
  
”Guess I should’ve realised it way earlier. Sometimes I think I grew up in some parallel universe or something, thinking everyone hated gays and since I could get it up for chicks, I couldn’t be one. Come thinking about it I was probably a lost case for you when we were fourteen or so, maybe earlier.”  
”Jesus…”  
”Yeah, it sounds pretty fucked up now, come thinking about it.”  
”I didn’t know either. With you, I mean. Hell, I knew I liked guys just not you. You’re not supposed to fall for your best friend. And we were teens, practically horny 24/7 so I guess I thought it would pass.”  
  
This is a scary subject and Deran knows he’s said a lot more than he thought he’d ever be able to. It feels right, but that doesn’t make it any less scary or mentally exhausting. They need to talk, yes, but not all silence is bad and Deran’s too tired to continue this conversation now.  
  
”Look, Adrian, it’s… too early for more of this now.”  
  
He’s prepared to see a disappointed or exasperated look on his boyfriend’s face, but Adrian just looks calm.  
  
”Yeah… We should get breakfast.”  
”I’m not trying to…”  
”I know.”  
  
Adrian smiles and presses a kiss on his lips.   
  
”Let’s get some coffee.”


	5. Adrian

The hotel’s cheap, well, as cheap as it gets without cockroaches, mold, bullet holes and suspicious stains on the carpets. The owner, a young woman, seemed surprised when they checked in, asking for a double bed. Adrian could feel her curious look following them until they were out of sight. At least the room is properly clean and contains both a coffee brewer and a small fridge. He looked into it as soon as they’d shut the door, suspiciously looking for used needles or at least some expired food, but no. Apparantly, cheap doesn’t necessarily mean filthy in San Pedro, just boring and impersonal.   
  
Deran’s hair’s wet from the shower, drops falling down his neck under the scrunchie and he’s, probably without thinking about it, put an arm around Adrian’s shoulders. It’s not especially sweet or endearing, rather an oblivious gesture of protectiveness that could mean anything from friendship to whatever the fuck to those seeing it.   
  
They buy a package of coffee, breadrolls, butter and cheese at the closest place. Some bananas. Deran lits a smoke on their way back and God, it’s suck a relief not having to talk. The hotel owner smiles at them, seemingly not having any problem with gay tourists, at least not until they’re making her earn less money by ruining for other guests. Not gonna be a problem.  
  
Back in their boring, clean room, Adrian realises they’re doing things autmatically. He makes the coffee, Deran the sandwiches, the only sounds coming from the brewer chugging and the sound of the ocean coming through the open window. He follows Deran’s moves, skates over the tattoos, the ink-free back and chest. The t-shirt went off as soon as they came inside, tossed away on the unmade bed like he’s at home and Adrian thinks there’s a little too much truth in that. Being on the run is a part of Deran’s home, always has been and it goes way deeper than just his years in the closet.  
  
Adrian moves to look out the window, feeling the air, hearing the waves breaking through the coffee brewer and he smiles as he feels the hands coming around him. Belize holds many sweet memories, but not this: a wordless, natural sign of care. He swallows hard as Deran leans his chin on his shoulder, still sleepy mouth pressing a soft kiss on his neck. The hands that used to boarder between scared and painfully rough almost three years ago, unable to soften without the protection of darkness, are so gentle now. Being on the run together, knowing and admitting it, makes this a whole different thing than the first time.  
  
”Hey… c’mere, babe…”  
  
He’s turned around, gently, and sees nothing of Deran’s face before he’s pressed against his shoulder, adding sobs to the waves and the chugging from the black gold. Deran’s stroking his back, heartbeats calm and steady.   
  
”Took your meds yet?”  
”No… They’re in the backpack.”  
”Good.”  
  
The voice Adrian’s known for a few months now. Not a new one, but the one he knows Deran should’ve had, had he never stopped being the kid Adrian grew up with. It doesn’t sound quite natural yet, like it’s still trying to settle, but it’s all Adrian needs right now. Just a change of tone, a little reminder of who’s holding him, of who they both are, and the sorrow fades away again. For now.


	6. Deran

The weed isn’t really helping, probably because he can’t use too much of it without feeling sick right now. He’s tried to avoid this, he’s not gonna try and lie to himself about that. Not at this point. Once he thought just admitting his feelings would be the breaking point and when it wasn’t, he figured telling Smurf and getting away from her would do the trick. It wasn’t, and neither was telling Adrian about the rape or being there for him after the kidnapping.  
  
Maybe it’s the haste of it all. How years of same old hiding, bitching and whining suddenly changed within just a few months. Deran’s not really thought about it like that until just recently. How the shit can follow you in a far more subtle and potentially devastating way than you’re even capable of fathom. It’s not all the work with the bar or the practical shit he’s done for Adrian the last time that’s made him feel so fucking knackered. Not even Smurf or the still unsolved issue about who hurt Adrian and why. In the end, it’s always been about Deran and his own goddamn, fucked up feelings and neither Oceanside nor Belize can save him or his relationship with Adrian from that.  
  
The clock is ticking, figuratively and literally. There’s an old, ugly watch on the wall with a loud pointer going tick-tack in their silence, like a mockering voice reminding him how much time he’s already wasted being afraid and angry. Ashamed. Belize can’t fix that. Maybe ease it, even help a little, but for all their dark jokes about being on the run, both Deran and Adrian know it’s too late for that. They don’t have the time, nor the energy left. At least not if what they have is worth anything more than a runaway trip to just load the batteries. Honestly, Deran’s not sure if it’s even possible for any of them to lie that much to each other or themselves right now. If they’re too tired to speak about shit that matters, maybe they should just say as little as possible, saving their strenght for the heavy stuff.  
  
The leftovers from their frugal breakfast look forgotten, like they left them in a haste when it’s actually the opposite. Adrian’s laying with his head in Deran’s lap, curled up like a cat and Deran just scratches the dark hair without commenting the tears, returning again in the middle of eating. Deran’s not really afraid of talking right now, it just seems unnecesssairy. Sure, they could, but what’s the point if one of them is too wornout to get something out of it except exhaustion? And it’s not exactly easy to form what you really want to say, when you’re so frayed you just start crying out of nowhere from a hug.  
  
If there’s something Deran knows he’s learned the last time, it’s patience. It even comes natural now, not with everything, definately not, but with Adrian. It’s like pushing a pause button of some sort, Deran can’t really describe it in another way if he was asked to, but he’s lived with Adrian’s pain and fear for so long now, some rections seem to act on their own. The most obvious one being Deran just dropping whatever he does or thinks about if Adrian’s crying. Everything and everyone can wait until his boyfriend’s okay again. How and when did that happen?  
  
He strokes the warm neck, suddenly happy they’re on the run because at least no one except the land lady will come knocking on this scratched motel door and their phones are on silent, not even the vibrating disturbing them with some buzzed noise reminding them of home or anything else back in Oceanside. Is that really being on the run? Leaving the way they did certainly seem like it, but Deran wants to believe it’s more of a break than escape this time. Not from the shit they’ve gone through, Deran suspects this trip wont leave those ghoasts locked up, but from all the people, work and tiny but neverending tasks that have made any real chance to know where they’re heading impossible. As much as Deran hates the fact that this trip very possibly means an end to either his silence or his relationship, that ugly, scratched and locked door meeting his gaze, is a safe haven right now.


	7. Adrian

It’s difficult not getting bitter about it. It’s like some bad romance novel about two oblivious people pining for each other for years, refusing to admit it. Or a Brokeback Mountain scenario, only without wifes and kids and set in the 21th century. All the things they’ve been through since those firsts tugs in the belly when they saw each other… The amount of unhealthy shit following their until very recently unnamed relationship is fucking breathtaking and not in a very good way.  
  
Usually, crying is a fruitless task Adrian tries to avoid, because rather than making him feel like some weight is coming off, it just makes him tired. Not this time. The clock on the wall only tells them about the time, not telling them where to go or what to do and the silence from all the things usually fighting for their attention, feels like a thick, heavy blanket. They’re not going anywhere, Adrian can lay on Deran’s lap like this for as long as he needs, crying or not.  
  
Deran’s worming a hand under Adrian’s clothes seeking skin contact, nothing more, and Adrian lets him, helps getting rid of the t-shirt, the shorts. He’s not in for another fuck, neither is Deran, the slow breaths giving that away pretty clearly as they leave their clothes on the floor again, ending up under the cover. All they need right now, is being as close as possible, feeling each other like an anchor holding them steady on the ground – or a cheap mattress.  
  
He feels so heavy, like he’s somehow doubled his weight and could crush Deran’s ribs by just breathing to deep. His heart is pounding fast, like it’s unaware of the weariness and not quite realised he’s not going anywhere or even moving. Deran’s widened his thighs to make space for him, their hipbones a little too sharp against each other, but Adrian wants that feeling too. He’s never been with Deran without something grinding at least a bit uncomfortably and he needs that familiar feeling now. Needs the steady, only slightly speeded up heartbeats, the callous fingers trailing his spine, the soft cock slowly getting bloodfilled because just like his own, it doesn’t know any better, reacting the only way it can.  
  
And strange as it is, it feels good just letting it be like this, without getting awkward or stressed about it. Deran just keeps stroking his back, fingertips brushing over the spine all the way from the neck to the tailbone. He’s cupping Adrian’s cheeks, squeezing them softly without groping or digging into the flesh and that too is something that wouldn’t have happened the last time. Deran allowing himself to really feel the man in his arms and neither of them wanted to fuck five minutes ago but Deran’s fingers have went further, still just stroking the puckered skin shallowly, down the perineum and back. It’s almost absent-minded, like Deran just have to reach everywhere he can.  
  
Adrian can feel how hard the man is getting, how the nimble touches turn a little more needy, making himself in need for another round. He recalls the way Deran would take him in the beginning. Hard and rough, but never painful or humiliating, both of them too afraid to do it any other way. There’s a part of Adrian who loves the feeling like he’s being put in place, not out of submission, but for the sole sense of just knowing the man pounding into him knows exactly how to satisfy him. Naturally, he’s not told Deran that, maybe there will be a good time for that further on, but not now. The next time Deran’s fingers moves down, Adrian grabs his wrist and holds him there.


	8. Deran

Sleeping, fucking, crying, resting. Fucking again. He loves fingering Adrian, hasn’t realised it before, but he really does. Knowing Adrian needs it little bit rough to come, it’s very addictive just seeing him squirm around Deran’s fingers, pressing his head into the bend of his arm against the wall, fists balled and unable to touch himself as Deran holds his other hand locked on his chest.  
  
Adrian’s whining loudly, the sound of it going straight to Deran’s cock and he adds a little more lube before going in rough with three fingers, getting a pitch-high moan for the effort. They can be loud in here and Adrian’s certainly taking advantage of it, the impatience clear in every breath.  
  
”Fuck… Deran, get inside me now, dammit!”  
  
The deepened voice, constrasting to the high whining, is nothing but maddening. Deran has to catch his breath before slicking himself up and when Adrian’s tightening around him like a hot, silky vice, he remembers where they are, or rather where they aren’t. No one knows them here. If the landlady complains they’ll just find another cheap room and fuck other peoples stares or potential complaints. That’s Deran’s last coherant thought before burying himself to the hilt, feeling the muscle tightening around him, pulses throbbing from his crotch as Adrian moans again, hissing something about moving.  
  
He’s barely aware of anything than the way Adrian’s squeezing his cock, his moans and hardly decipherable words, how he’s arching his back, begging for Deran to fuck him in a way none of them usually does. The pleas are desperate but so fucking hot, hearing his lover beg, whine and sob for him without holding back and Deran doesn’t realise he’s groaning as well, panting out how good Adrian feels, how tight he is around him and he nibbles for his earlobe.  
  
”You like this, babe? You want me to fuck you like this?”  
”Yes… Fuck, yes, I need… I need this… Need your big cock, babe…”  
  
_Jesus Christ_. When did his gentle, sweet boyfriend start sounding like this?! Deran sinks his teeth into the flushed ear, just a little too hard, eliciting another delicious moan from the man. This isn’t an Adrian in need of softness or sweet words, but one who simply needs to be fucked into oblivion or further if it’s possible.  
  
He’s keeping a tight grip around Adrian’s hips and starts fucking him, hard and rhythmical, setting the pace and moves and everything just because how the man begs him and Deran’s mind is reeling from it. _I’ve finally learned how to be gentle with you and I’ll never forget that or let any shame get in the way for that again, but you all but have to ask, babe, and I’ll be your animal too._  
  
Adrian sounds almost broken, soft little moans and pantings as he comes without Deran even touching his cock and that’s about it for Deran too. Somehow he’s not been able  – or maybe not allowed himself – to remember just how much he loves to take Adrian like this since the first break-up and Deran doesn’t want to think about any of that now, as the silky heat rips the orgasm from him before he slumps like a leech onto his boyfriend’s warm, damp shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sun 10/12: I know I've not updated this in some days now, but I can assure you, I will try to post another chapter soon. I just got caught up in Sons Of Anarchy and fell apart over another pairing so I've been sucked into that for a while. Haven't forgotten about Deran and Adrian though, of course. I'll update as soon as I can. *kisses* <3


	9. Adrian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry for the long wait, I've had a little writers block with these two the last week but I hope it's, if not gone so at least less worse now. Kisses and hugs to all of you <3

Although having their wetsuits packed, Adrian’s not even considering standing on a board. He packed it out of old habit or maybe to remind himself there are other things in his life apart from fucking, crying or making a skittish boyfriend talk. He brushes the fabric before squeezing it back in the bag, hidden beneath some shirts and pants. He’s squatting on the floor and holds out his arms, trying to catch balance, but it’s not there.  
  
Wiggling like a drunken toddler as soon as he’s got nothing to hold onto and Adrian swallows hard, body tensing as he’s fighting the lack of balance along with the disappointment. Doesn’t matter what meds he takes, where he is or how good a fuck he’s had, because he’s still adrift. Can’t work, sleep, eat or surf as he used to and the weight of that frustration hits him hard, not making him cry, but turning him angry, angrier than he’s prepared for and the only thing he can do, is getting loose on himself.  
  
”Babe? Adrian, what are… Oh, shit!”  
  
He only manages a few punches before Deran locks his wrists in hard hands.  
  
”The hell are you doing, man?! Are you crazy? Punching yourself, for fucks sake…”  
  
His boyfriend keeps barking at him, upset and scared and Adrian doesn’t talk back or tries to get loose because the moment of sudden despair is over and he doesn’t struggle, just goes lax. It’s only then, as he sinks down on the floor with Deran, that he feels the pain he’s caused himself. Deran rubs his face.  
  
”Jesus, Adrian…  What happened?”  
  
Adrian just sighs, almost whimpers because it’s upsetting, not just what he did, but that he really can’t explain it right now and soothe Deran’s worry. But again, the man surprises him. Deran still holds his hands, but more gently now, brushing his thumbs over the wrists and leans his head onto his forehead.  
  
”C’mon, babe. Talk to me.”  
  
He tries, but can’t find words and he shakes his head, exasparated and disappointed but Deran just nuzzles him gently.  
  
”S’alright, babe. Sorry for screaming at you. Just scared me, man… Can I hold you?”  
  
It’s so different from last time. The wetsuit he can’t use, Deran’s gentleness, the lack of self-hate and denial in his voice. Adrian hates his own reactions, that he can’t seem to control them, like he’s a loaded, unsecured gun in the hands of a fucking maniac. Left out to the mercy of his memories and emotions. But he leans into Deran, feels those strong arms close around his shoulders without trapping him.  
  
”Don’t appologies, hon. We both know it’s not your fault, right? T’is not your fault, you’re not weak and you’re not alone, alright. I’m not angry with you, you just scared me. Don’t want you to do stupid shit to yourself, okay? I love you so much, babe…”  
  
He doesn’t mention the abduction, the source of this madness. The reason they’re back here where it all started. Well, one of them. The most visible one neither sweetness, work, meds nor closeness have been able to hide, only calm enough to pretend normality. A part of Adrian wants to make Deran talk about it, now, to force his strong, calm boyfriend into showing weakness too. Showing them both he’s not the only one who’s a mess, in need of comfort and forced to face his nightmare.  
  
In this moment, Adrian forgets about all the small, hesistant yet very clear steps Deran’s been taken these last months. All he sees, all he feels as his own panic is fading, is how he’s the weak one showing need while Deran’s strong, allowed to be in control. Because that’s always been their way, before Deran backed off and started to change, and in these surroundings Adrian easily slips back to the past. And as Deran keeps soothing him back to a stable ground, the image of the strong man changes in Adrian’s mind, from the comforter to the raped, hurt and ashamed man Pope drove in secret to Mexico, to help him hide the wound.


	10. Deran

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year und so weiter! Sorry for the lack of updates, but I've not abandoned my boys. Back to Belize!

He’s a hypocrite, that’s for sure. Encouraging Adrian to talk, to share when he doesn’t want to himself. Just mentioning it to anyone at all was so way out of Deran’s comfort zone he’s still not sure whether he regrets it or not. After all, he was drunk and high, followed the guy freely at first and… Things got a little wrong? Deran holds Adrian closer, whispers sweet nonsense to him, getting him back to the now and their temporary sanctuary.  
  
It wont help being here if Adrian can’t leave that horrible place in his memory anyway and Deran rocks him slowly on the floor.  
  
”I’m here, babe. T’is not your fault and we don’t have to surf. Not sure if I can either, you know.”  
  
It’s not a lie. Deran’s not felt strong enough to keep his balance on a board since the rape and sometimes even the sight of the broken ones in the bar has made his stomach twitch uncomfortably. He nuzzles Adrian’s neck.  
  
”We’ll be back on boards again, Adrian. Maybe not now, but in a few weeks or so, I promise.”  
”We shouldn’t have come here…”  
”Why? ’Cause you can’t surf? Hell, I don’t know if _I_ can surf. I just want to be with you somewhere where…”  
”We don’t have to look over our shoulders all the time?”  
”Something like that.”  
  
Deran laughs and shakes his head.  
  
”Man, I can’t even remember when was the last time I had a swim… ”  
  
He keeps nuzzling the warm skin, nibbling the spine and hairline.  
  
”You wanna go down to the beach, hon? Have a swim, get you some more freckles…”  
  
Now it’s Adrian’s turn to laugh, wiping his face again and the warm smile, although a little weak, is back.  
  
”Deran Cody has a freckle fetish… Who would’ve known?”  
”No one but you, that’s the best part of it.”  
”So it’s a secret, then?”  
”Uh-huh.”  
”Should I get worried if we see a guy with more freckles than me?”  
”I don’t know. Should I get worried if there are any longhaired blonds around?”  
”Only if they’re six feet two millionaires, looking for a freckled trophy husband.”    
”Asshole.”  
  
Adrian keeps smiling, eyelashes still wet but the bright sparkle in the blue eyes is back. Deran rubs his thumbs under them, wiping the wetness away and fuck surfing, fuck all the adrenaline rushed stuff he loves to do. Fuck high waves, sky diving and fast cars, cliff jumps, deep coral reefs and all the party coke in the world because that’s not why they’re here. That’s not the reason he’s comforting his best friend, lover and boyfriend.  
  
They’re here because they’re on the run, because they need a break and more than anything need to talk. But not now. Deran has finally surrendered to the fact that neither of them can move on in any fucking direction unless they talk, but they have to give room for blissful, if not ignorance so at least breaks. He presses a soft kiss on Adrian’s lips.  
  
”What do you say, babe? How about we’re going to the beach, checking out all the hunks and make the chicks jealous by holding hands? You’d like that?”  
”Very much.”


	11. Adrian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally an update. Sorry for the long pauses, I've definately not given up on the story, just lacked inspiration for it for a while. Hope you've not given up on me! <3

Deran was right. At least about the beach. Adrian’s taken his shoes off, hanging around his neck as he walks in the sand. He closes his eyes, just listening to the sound of the sea, the wind and voices that don’t concern him. It’s easier to breathe here, knowing there’s no risk to bump into people they know. Not unless they’re extremely unlucky.   
  
Two arms around his waist. He should be used to them by now, but there’s novelty in every touch. A before and after kind of thing, probably. Last time they were here, Deran wouldn’t have touched him like this, wouldn’t have acknowledge the existence of that kind of need. Fear always present, despite their hidden place with Smurf and Deran’s brothers far away. Now, the man is keeping him close, the inked arms wrapped around him like it’s nothing and it means everything.  
  
The bay is full of surfers, swimmers and even families with kids. Usually they tend to avoid these spots, but it was a long time since Adrian last saw this place and things might have changed. A group of teenage girls are passing them, giggling and looking and as they get a few feet away, there’s a fit of giggle-screams Adrian can’t help but chuckling at.   
  
“Seriously…?”  
  
Deran’s muttering only makes Adrian smile wider and he reaches an arm back to cradle his boyfriend’s head.  
  
“Can’t blame them for looking, hon. You’re a big, bad surfer with dangerous tattoos and long hair.”  
“With a _dude_ , man.”  
“Exactly.”  
  
Deran bends his head to look at him, completely confused and Adrian bites his lip, chuckling now.  
  
“You really don’t know why they’re looking? How many girl on girl films have you seen?”  
“Enough for a lifetime. Craig fucking loves that shit.”  
”And lots of straight chicks like gay stuff. We’re out of reach, wont leave them for another girl and we look pretty hot.”  
“Oh… Man… Never thought about that.”  
“That we’re hot?”  
  
His boyfriend just snorts, pressing a small kiss on Adrian’s neck. Still not entirely relaxed about being open, or maybe it’s just the level of intimacy. How they’re unable to let go of each other, almost obliviously seeking more closeness even in a public place like this. Like they’re trying to reclaim something more than just a space to breathe in.  
  
There’s a shudder coming, not from his own wretched fucking body, but Deran’s. It’s gone before Adrian can say anything without sounding too anxious and instead he just casually strokes the arms and hands around him. He wants to tell him not to worry. That it’s safe here, they’re both safe for a little while. No one that matters can destroy this for them. Deran nuzzles his neck again.  
  
“Should’ve done this… you know… the last time…”  
“You wanted to?”  
“Yeah…”  
  
Adrian smiles and squeezes Deran’s hand. Long Caye is beautiful and the last time here they explored a lot of it. The beaches, Lighthouse Reef Atoll, giant green anemones and manta rays… the caverns with stalactites, shimmering in blue and green… This time he can’t dive and the last time their diving used to end up with them just chasing each other, an underwater play tag that stopped before anything happened. Just playful wrestling, still far more intimate than would be considered normal for a couple of friends but never tipping over to destroy the moment with fear.  
  
Deran nudges him.  
  
“What’s wrong, babe?”  
”Nothing.”  
  
His boyfriend just raises his eyebrows and Adrian gives him a smile. He’s not getting out of this, Deran’s become far too good at reading his bodylanguage.  
  
“Just… you remember when we were supposed to dive with those dudes and we…?”  
“Scared the fish away. Yeah, I remember.”  
  
They both snicker at the memory and Deran kisses his neck again.  
  
”Was more interested in you than manta rays.”  
  
Adrian already knew of course, but hearing it feels so good. It’s the missing link between Belize and Oceanside, the confirmation Deran would never give any of them for so long. They’re on the run again, but it feels like they’ve finally stopped running and chasing, hiding and challenging.


	12. Deran

It’s not a conscious thing. Not at first. Once the shock of being back has softened and they’ve spent a couple of days in Belize, mostly just winding down a bit and trying to digest the reality and the fact that they’re talking with greater ease than Deran thought he’d ever be able to, he’s relaxing. Not completely, of course, but it feels less like an escape and more of a rest for a lot of reasons.  
  
First of all, Adrian sleeps better and that means Deran does too. Adrian takes sleeping pills but that’s not stopped neither nightmares nor sudden wake-ups in the middle of the night before. Now they’ve decreased from panicked screams to small whimpers, easily soothed and erased with cuddles and some gentle whispers. Once Adrian knows Deran’s there, he lets himself be cradled and the nightmare dies off in a heartbeat. Instead of laying tense and unsettled for a while and then fall asleep due to exhaustion afterwards, Deran’s own sleep returns quicker and softer too. Mostly, he’s not even fully awake when he comforts Adrian, it’s a reflex.  
  
Second, the majorly improved sleep means Adrian is getting less tense while awake which leads to things like increased appetite and more energy. The sense of hiding him is gone and Deran slowly realises how tiring it’s been to take care of Adrian, the bar and keep his own as well as Adrian’s wounds hidden. As Adrian gets more relaxed, Deran does too and that means he’s getting passive.  
  
Deran can’t remember a time when he could go through a day without letting his restless body run, jump, swim or surf. Without being able to escape his mind by using his body like before – or diving into work – he should be getting irritated, restless and unfocused. Instead the forced downtime makes him more aware of the surroundings. More protective, maybe.  
  
He doesn’t like the looks and gets nervous when people come too close to Adrian. Sure, they’re not in Oceanside, haven’t spotted any familiar faces and it’s highly unlikely the people they’re running from are here or knows they’re here. Smurf may suspect where they are, but Deran trusts Pope to keep her –and Craig – in check. They keep in touch with texts, just short updates so that Deran and Adrian know the bar and the shop are still running and havn’t been blown up or something. Tao is reliable and so is Heather. Neither of them knows exactly where Deran and Adrian are, for their own protection. In fact, no one knows exactly where they’ve headed and this is a part of Belize they’ve only visited shortly before.   
  
Last time the nervousness had all to do with homophobia, self-hatred and the fear that even here, miles away from Smurf, somehow she’d find out and stop loving him. A fear going far deeper than just being afraid of slurs and disgusted looks because if she can’t love him, who can?  
  
It’s a lie. Smurf doesn’t love him, never did and it hurts but not as much as he feared. She’s not stopped loving him and he’s not alone in not being loved by her. He’s got siblings, just as unloved as himself and Deran guesses that’s why he’s not feeling completely worthless. Julia is dead and Baz for all his talk of Smurf’s selfishness just as egocentrical. When he needed them the most, Craig and Pope were there not just for Deran but Adrian as well and that’s what matters.  
  
Maybe he’s too clingy, but he really can’t stop himself at this point. The need to make Adrian feel safe, maybe even a little happy, simply seems to take over and it almost scares him how natural it feels. Would it have been like this if he’d not ruined things by being a major fucked up and scared asshole with momma issues? Probably and that’s a fucking depressing thought.  
  
They’re laying on the beach and Adrian has removed his shirt but not the tank-top. The freckled skin looks too pale but a few more days like this will remedy that. The tension is worse, creating lots of knots especially on his neck and shoulders and Deran’s not exactly a masseur. Maybe he could persuade Adrian to go an see one while they’re here. If Deran is with him, maybe even be in the room during the session, Adrian could relax enough to have a professional help him to work out the knots.  
  
Deran doesn’t see how he’s running away again. How his mind is slipping from his own shit by focusing on Adrian. Planning how to take care of his boyfriend, making him whole again, makes Deran feel strong, in control again. It moves him away from the scared, immature and selfish prick that only thought of himself and not being seen as weak. He doesn’t want to think of the assault, the rape, because that would once again make it all about him and his needs, not Adrian’s. His boyfriend shouldn’t have to deal with that shit at all, especially not now and Deran’s own little demons can wait. They have to, even if it would require one hell of a weed and booze consumation – or stealing a pill or two from Adrian’s jars.


	13. Adrian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greetings and mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa for the lack of updates. My muse is fickle and I've had such bad conscience for not updating. I hope I will be able to keep my shit together enough to update more often. Kisses and hugs <3

”Relax.”  
  
Right after saying it, Adrian groans from the hidden tension and Deran snorts. He’s giving Adrian a much needed back rub and the one who should relax is Adrian. Deran’s hands are hard in a good way this time but Adrian can still feel the tension in them. His boyfriend is absolutely _not_ relaxed himself.  
  
“Is it too hard, or what?”  
”No, but you’re tense too, man. Can… ouch! Can feel it in your… fingers… the hell did you find there?!”  
  
A snicker. Deran is good at this, has practically speed learned in how to be something close to a perfect boyfriend and although Adrian loves this sweet side coming to life, it’s painfully clear how hard Deran tries to shove everything about his own tension and pain away, focusing entirely on Adrian instead. He’s also extremely alert, especially on other men, even if they’re just passing and don’t even look twice at them. This beach is gay friendly, not really a cruiser spot but it’s very much a place for young tourists more than families and times have changed.   
  
No need to look out for fear of gay bashers, but Adrian knows that’s not why Deran’s keeping watch. Why he’s tense while trying to make Adrian feel better. Deran’s afraid, simply as that, and all these people passing by, even if their looks are of the kind you throw to simply get a view of the surroundings, scare him for another reason than his sexuality or Smurf and Adrian also knows it’s not the right moment to bring that horrible memory up. It’s not _his_ , after all. Telling Deran not to be afraid wouldn’t change anything to the better. That would just come across as an intrusion in his mind and the last Adrian wants is to make Deran understand how easy it is to read him. Invading other people’s minds is Smurf’s brand of reckognition and even if she’s not here physically, she’s still very much alive and present in Deran’s head. When Deran finds a particularly sore spot and immediately softens a bit when Adrian groans in pain, Adrian sighs.  
  
“Fuck, you’re good at this…”  
  
He can’t see the smile the little praise elicits, but he still knows it’s there. That Deran’s cheeks are slightly blushing and how he’s beaming from the words. Not many people have told Deran he’s actually _good_ at something apart from surfing, especially not outside crimes. It’s not the Cody way to encourage each other like that, to give room for something that could threaten the life Smurf has set out for them. Letting her kids feel they’re more than her little helpers, more than just a part of a crime syndicate, means giving them the chance to leave. To not depend on their mother anymore, making her less important to them really, and that’s simply unacceptable.  
  
In a way, Adrian guesses he’s Deran’s guinea pig and if the situation was different, it would be pretty funny. Their own version of making a tough guy discover sensitivity and shit. Or the lover realising he fucked up but is trying to make amends. There’s still a small voice arguing that Adrian’s just doing the old as time, futile attempt to save a beast and make him show the man inside, but it’s not that easy. Belize may be a hiding place, but the reason for hiding is very different  this time. Deran is afraid, yes, but not ashamed or in denial. At least not about his own sexuality or what he feels for Adrian. Little by little, he’s showing the extent of his capacity of being sweet and gentle, as if he’s leaking it without really noticing the hole. It comes natural and it’s… just baffling.  
  
The gentle hands have hard, callous fingertips and are reading Adrian’s back like a fucking map. But there is also fear in them. A nervousness with roots going far back, before the rape, before the kidnapping, before coming out and before opening the bar. A fear of being abandoned, of not being strong enough – or enough in any way – of not being loved. Being seen as weak. It’s hard to tell how much of it Belize is simply hiding away, but will set loose again the moment they return to Oceanside.   
  
“This okay, babe?”  
”Very.”  
  
The thought of someone violating Deran in any way… Deran might think Adrian’s completely occupied with his own shit to notice the damaged done to him, but he’s very much aware. The worry in Deran’s eyes, the anxiousness he’s trying to keep out of his voice when asking things. The fear of hurting Adrian in any way, of letting the memories destroy their time together. Adrian knows he needs to find a way to make Deran talk, like really talk, but he also knows from own experience how hard it is to find the right moment, not to mention the right words for your worst nightmare. And until they find those words, things wont go forward for real.  
  
“What do you want for dinner?”  
  
Adrian smiles. Deran still sounds so new at making these kind of questions and it’s fucking adorable.  
  
“Anything without too much grease. If I grab a burger and beer my guts will hate me.”  
“You want salad and shit?”  
“Yeah. Organic, raw food. And destilled water with ginger and lemon.”  
  
The way Deran stops right in a move is hilarous and Adrian bursts out in a laughter, turning around to watch the confused and slightly horrified face.  
  
“I’m kidding, man! Jesus, you should see your face.”  
”Asshole.”  
  
Deran breathes out, muttering, and now Adrian sees the blush. He smiles at him.  
  
“Fish. Grilled fish and wine. Should be able to stomach one glass.”  
”There’s a place pretty close. Think they have fish.”  
  
He’s just too cute. They’ve not really had a proper date in public and Deran’s low self-esteem is more or less bursting in it’s seams on this kind of unfamiliar ground. It’s exhausting for both of them, treading light and right in their unsteady minds, but sometimes an illusion of normality is as good as the actual thing. And to be honest, the idea of doing something in public with Deran that doesn’t remind of their past or the current shit they’re in, is very tempting.


	14. Deran

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goodness me... Am I late or what with this chapter? My muse has been a bitch lately, really, and I can't believe it's been almost two months since my last update. Blaming it on a slightly too chaotic life and Sons Of Anarchy, but now with the third season on and rolling, I hope I'll get some inspiration back.
> 
> Note: I will not cut Deran's hair, since I like guys with long hair and this is, you know, not canon compliant. No use in looking for canon content here since it's an AU, really. I'm sorry if I've kept people waiting and I hope there are still some who're in for the ride again, even if it's been slow as hell.
> 
> I'll also ask people to not make any spoilers from season 3 in the comments, because I don't want any potential readers who're not up to date on the latest episode, to be disappointed. Of course, you can always find me discussing that on https://www.tumblr.com/blog/onlyonewoman
> 
> *kisses and hugs as always*

This is not who he is. Grilled salmon and white wine. The only thing missing is a fucking suit. Adrian gives him an amused smile.  
  
”It’s just food, man. You’re not gonna shit rainbows. Can’t live on red meat and white bread alone.”  
“Fuck you.”  
  
The man with now dry and almost happy eyes, just keeps smiling, taking a deliberately slow bite of the fish.  
  
“Oh, this is just _fab_.”  
  
A sip of the wine.  
  
“Divine, darling. Absolutely divine!”  
  
Deran wonders when exactly he became, not comfortable exactly, but unthreatened by this. Not unaffected, he’s finding it difficult to know what he feels about it, but where there once would’ve been anger and fear, it’s now renons on both. Seeing Adrian smiling, hearing his teasing, the almost defiant look in his eyes… It’s new and yes, it’s a bit scary, but mostly intriguing. And it’s a huge relief that he seems relaxed again.  
  
He drinks from the wine he never would’ve ordered himself and it’s alright. Red is better and beer is always to prefer, but he’s a bar owner for fucks sake, and not all costumers order shots. A little research is never wrong and the fish isn’t bad either. The place isn’t that crowded, but even if it was, it shouldn’t matter. Deran isn’t sure if they used to _show_ anything this open in restaurants of any kind the first time. Honestly, he can’t remember many details at all. In his memory, Belize is a five weeks long mixture of confusion, freedom, weed, booze and suppressed fear, added to the best orgasms he’d ever had. He puts his glass down, reaching for Adrian’s hand on the table instead.  
  
Talking is still hard. It doesn’t come natural, not like the caring. Caring can be silent, it doesn’t require saying smart things or… whatever. Deran hates how his fucked up brain can’t stop analyzing shit.  
  
“Hey… Where are you?”  
  
Adrian’s voice is low, yet not like he wants to hide anything. More like not wanting to spook Deran. It hurts, knowing it’s probably necessary. Deran feels another flash of self-hatred pour over him. Who the hell does he think he’s kidding? Belize can’t fix this, no matter how many decent meals they have. It’s still just a shelter, beautiful as hell and with everything two surfers could wish for, but that’s the problem now, isn’t it? They want more than they – or at least Deran – knew how to wish for two and a half years ago.  
  
A few more weeks before Adrian can surf again. At least. Thinking about him back on the board, strong and sunkissed like he should be, comparing it to this still pale and hollow-eyed man, trying to joke away the fact that he’s still having a hard time keeping food down, is cringing. A small squeeze has Deran look up.  
  
“Sorry, man… I just…”  
  
He makes a little shrug, as if it’s nothing and Adrian plays along. It’s silently freaking Deran out, really, because they both know nothing is normal with this in any sense. He’s suddenly tensing again and Adrian moves his chair, too close for discretion, and just leans into his space, bumping heads.  
  
“I’ll stop teasing. Okay? This is good shit, Deran, and I’m just… Haven’t been on a date with you like this before so I guess I just don’t know how to do this.”  
”You’ve been on real dates.”  
”Yeah, but not with you. And, you know, never with a boyfriend.”  
“Really?”  
“Nope.”  
”I thought you were all like…”  
”Having regular dinner dates with someone pulling my chair out?”  
“Hey, I have no idea how normal dating works. My brothers didn’t exactly pick their chicks up for dinners and movies.”  
“Guess not.”  
  
For some reason, Adrian has probably thought that at least Baz had acted normal enough to go on something akin to real dates on one time or another. That somehow Deran had seen it and… seen how it’s done? But no, Baz never picked up Cath at eight pm and brought her to restaurants or movies. It’s just not a part of the Cody family life. Never has been. It’s a foreign world to Deran, as so much else other people consider normal.  
  
Adrian takes another slow bite, but he’s smiling.  
  
“It’s really nice, by the way. Always liked salmon.”  
”Yeah? Think you’ll be able to…?”  
”Keep it down? Absolutely.”  
  
That’s Deran, though. Someone who can choose food that his boyfriend can stomach, without bitching about it. Not exactly a high standard for a boyfriend, he guesses, but considering where he came from, maybe it’s not so bad – strange – after all. Adrian is the first guy, well first of any kind, that Deran’s been able to show this side to. A thoughtfulness he didn’t know he was capable of, that seems to come almost natural with this man and this man alone. Maybe that’s what Adrian saw early on, what made him stay that long to begin with and why he decided to give Deran another chance.  
  
Maybe it’s time to stop thinking that a fucking piece of grilled fish and some veggies have the power to change who he is.


End file.
